Just the Cameraman
by Lexicer
Summary: Elena didn't need a cameraman. Her producers disagreed. Sick of her losing all of their footage, they forced Jeff on her. Their story unfolds from there. NatexElena and JeffxElena
1. Chapter 1

_It was only a matter of time until I wrote an Uncharted story. This certainly isn't what I expected I'd be writing though! _o.O_ I thought I'd end up writing a story COMPLETELY ABOUT NATE AND ELENA. But alas, it isn't so. I have a lot in store for this fic, so I hope you enjoy and keep reading! _XD_ Oh, and sorry it's so short. I promise the next chapters will be longer...I think. _:P

_**Andrew** is an OC that I randomly made up for this chapter...I doubt we'll be seeing him beyond this chapter. Just wanted to clear that up!_

**RATED T FOR LANGUAGE**

Just the Cameraman

Chapter 1

"I don't need a cameraman," she said.

I quickly let my hand drop, knowing that she certainly wasn't going to shake it. I wrung my hands nervously as the producer, Andrew, sighed loudly next to me.

"Yes, you do," the graying man replied dryly. "The channel's sick of you losing our footage, and thus our episodes. So now, you have him to be responsible for the camera." He jabbed a thumb at me to which I responded to with a sheepish grin.

"Those accidents were beyond my control. I don't need a cameraman," she stated calmly, crossing her arms.

"Jeff here's a professional—"

"I'm a professional!" she interrupted, her cool facade shattering. "I've shot all my shows by myself up until now! Andrew, if you just let me—"

"You've lost four cameras in the last month, Fisher," Andrew said, closing his eyes in frustration. "That's four shows that were never aired." She stared at him defiantly, clenching her fists at her sides. With a heavy sigh, Andrew laid a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Elena. It's just business. And besides, he seems like a nice enough guy, right?"

I gave a small smile, tentatively waving my hand. She scowled and threw her head back, groaning. My smile dropped.

Andrew chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, watching us, before announcing, "Welp! I'll just leave you guys to it," and walking away towards the coffee machine.

I desperately wished that he would turn around and walk right back to my side and not leave me alone with this testy woman. But he didn't. So I stared at her for a few minutes before carefully attempting a conversation. "Uh…"

She groaned loudly and collapsed into the desk chair behind her; I didn't push the conversation any farther.

The little cubicle that she now resided in was cluttered with photographs and video tapes, her computer decorated with loud, rainbow Post-it notes. Leaning back farther in the chair, she closed her eyes and rested the heels of her hands on top of them. I wanted to say something, but I didn't want to disturb her. She already didn't seem to like me very much.

"Sorry for my foul mood," she said suddenly, eyes still closed. "Long night. It's not your fault." She opened her eyes and ran a hasty hand through her blond hair before looking up at me.

"S'okay," I assured her, waving her off weakly; I didn't like meeting new people, especially beautiful, blonde ones who had their own TV show.

She simply nodded, gazing at the cubicles around her. "Elena Fisher," she announced suddenly. "Historical reporter and journalist. You?"

"Uh, I'm Jeff," I replied nervously. "Cameraman."

She grinned. "Hi."

"Hi," I greeted quietly, slightly confused by her mood-swings.

She rubbed her eyes viciously before proclaiming, "I need coffee…now."

"Um, okay!" I said, glancing around until my eyes locked on the coffee machine. "Do you want me to—"

"Not that shit Andrew drinks," she snapped, rubbing her eyes again. Suddenly she raised her hands in the air. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I _really _didn't get enough sleep."

"No one does these days," I said, smirking shyly.

She gave a quick laugh before lifting herself off the chair and grabbing her messenger bag off the floor all in one smooth movement. "Well, come on Jeff the cameraman. There's a Starbucks down the street."

"Right." I stumbled around the office, attempting to gather all of my belongings off the floor.

"Just leave them there," Elena said. "You'll probably be staying here for a while." She grinned and added, "I promise I'm not usually this foul of a person. You were just lucky enough to start work on this day."

"Yeah. You seem really nice on your show," I told her, searching for my wallet in the depths of my backpack.

"I'm always nice on location," she said as I found my wallet and stuffed in my back pocket. "I love my job." Grinning, she quickly added, "Most of the time, at least."

"That's rarely the case," I mused. "Most people simply hate their job all the time. Ready?"

"Yep. Let's go." She walked towards the elevators and pushed the _down_ button. "We shoot our next show in two days: the Zulu people in Africa. Should be fun." She smiled and stepped into the elevator. "I have to order another plane ticket now!"

"Sorry."

She snickered and replied, "Don't be. It's not me paying for it!"

I stepped in next to her and pressed the button for the first floor. "Fair enough."

Grinning, she stared at me. "Maybe it won't be so bad having a cameraman. It'll be nice having someone else to eat bugs with me."

My eyes widened. "Wait, what? I don't have to do all that crazy stuff too, do I?"

"Why wouldn't you have to?" she asked, grinning cheekily. "You're part of the show now too, right?"

I shrugged and answered, "I'm just the cameraman."

**CHAPTER 1 END**

_End of Chapter 1. WOOH! YEAH! HAPPINESS! I hope you guys enjoyed it. Please review! Constructive criticism is LOVE! _XD_ Thank you all so much, and I hope you stick around for Chapter DOS! Look, I used Spanish. That makes me cool. *shot* _

_Lexicer.  
_


	2. Chapter 2

_Oh man! This was fun, yet difficult to write. The hardest parts were the lines already scripted in the game; it's annoying trying to convey their exact feelings and actions in words. Overall though, I'm very happy with it and I hope you enjoy it. I'll probably write more Uncharted fics in the future, but for now, I have to finish my FFXIII stories. Happy reading!_

Just the Cameraman

Chapter 2

"Can we stop for a minute?" I asked, out of breath and sweaty.

Elena pivoted around and glanced at our surroundings, searching for pursuers. "Yeah," she said, finally looking at me. "We can stop for a bit."

I sighed and collapsed onto a small ledge. "Thank god."

She grinned and sat next to me. "You alright there, big guy?" she asked, knocking her shoulder into mine.

I waved her off, slowly catching my breath. "Just peachy." Grabbing a bottle of water from my pack, I took a huge gulp and wiped the residue from my lips. "It's awfully hot though."

Smirking, she stood up again. "That's Nepal for ya."

I nodded and poured a bit of water into my hand before patting my face. We fell silent for a few moments, catching our breath before we had to run again. "So where's Lazarevic now?"

Elena pushed back the stray bangs hanging in her face. "Well, last I heard, he was camped around one of the central temples." She pulled a map from her back pocket. Quickly scanning the page, she showed it to me, pointing to a lightly drawn circle. "Right around here."

My eyes widened. "We're not too far then."

She shook her head. "Nope. We're right on his tail." Putting the map away, she added, "But we shouldn't get to close. His men already know we're here. The last thing we need is an all-out gunning brawl."

I snorted. "No kidding. I can shoot a TV show, but a gun is a little extreme for me."

She laughed and was about to reply, when suddenly the sounds of boots stomping and guns clattering rang around us. Both of us fell silent. _Speak of the devil,_ I mused.

"Shit," Elena spat through her teeth.

"It's coming from the north," I whispered, nodding my head towards an archway across from us.

"Yeah," Elena said, pulling her gun from its holster. "Okay, I'll go check it out. You stay here."

"Are you sure?" I asked, more than slightly worried.

She turned to me with an arched brow. "Jeff, I'm a big girl now. I can take care of myself."

I glanced at the ground sheepishly. "Well, okay."

"Don't worry. I'll be back before you know it," she assured me, quickly patting my shoulder.

Smirking, I nodded. "Fine. I'll just wait here. With my camera."

She grinned and knocked my chin. "Sounds like a plan. Don't move. I'll be back soon." And with that, she jogged through the archway, gun at the ready.

Sighing, I pulled off my baseball cap and ran a hasty hand through my short brown hair. Even my hair was sweaty. I grimaced and wiped my hand on my pants. We'd been tracking Lazarevic for a week or so now. When Elena had found out that there was chance Lazarevic was alive, she immediately asked the producers for their permission to cancel the 'Modern Geisha' episode in favor of stalking Lazarevic; the producers said no. While a thought-to-be-dead, fugitive war criminal could make an amazing story, the producers didn't want to throw away the channel's money on some wild goose chase. I thought that was the end of it until Elena had showed up at my apartment at 3 a.m. on a Thursday morning and said, "Pack your shit. We've got a flight to catch." We'd been avoiding Andrew's calls and e-mails ever since.

With a heavy sigh, I stood up and stretched out my sore and tired muscles. Sure, I was pretty fit, but running this much would make anyone tired. Well, except for Elena, apparently.

I was tying my shoes when I heard a thump and a groan. Confused, I glanced around the corner, and watched for a few moments. I didn't see anything. With a shrug, I picked up my camera, clucking my tongue at the dirt stuck on the lens.

That's when a guy popped out from around the corner. "Woah!" I said. Then I noticed the gun pointing at me. "Hey hey! Don't shoot!"

"Hey!" Elena exclaimed, her gun directed at the guy's head, her eyes blazing.

_Nice timing,_ I mused.

Suddenly, her eyes lit with recognition. "Nate? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Elena?" the man asked, surprised and distracted, and still holding a gun at Elena.

Instinct took over, and I tackled him to the ground, pinning him there.

"Jeff don't!" Elena pleaded, returning her pistol to its holster.

I looked at her confused. "Wait…you know this guy?"

"Yeah," she answered, holding a hand out for me to grab. "This is Drake."

Drake? Nathan Drake? Elena's ex-boyfriend Drake? Drake that broke Elena's heart? Drake that Elena hated?

I tried to hold back a smirk. "Oh," I said knowingly, remembering the conversation Elena and I had at Starbucks the first time I met her.

o-o-o

"Nathan Drake?" I asked, pondering for a moment. "Never heard of him."

She nodded and took a sip of her Iced Coffee, wincing slightly; the barista told her that it was the beverage with the most caffeine when she asked. "I didn't think so. He's good at keeping himself on the down low."

"Who is he?" I asked, stirring my expresso with one of those annoying swizzle sticks in attempt to cool it.

"He's the reason I didn't get any sleep last night."

I choked on my coffee, and looked at her. Was it really necessary to tell me about her…you know…'happy time' with her lover/boyfriend/whatever?

"Arguing!" she added upon seeing my expression. "We were arguing. Not…" She waved her hand. "You know. Whatever you're thinking."

"Oh, right," I said, blushing slightly as I sipped on my drink for lack of anything better to do; it needed sugar. "So he's your boyfriend?"

She snorted and stirred her drink. "More like ex-boyfriend now."

My eyes widened. "Oh," I mumbled, looking away. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she answered. "He's not my problem now."

We fell silent for a few moments, the jazz music playing above us. "So," I began carefully, "what happened?" I was worried she wouldn't tell me since we'd only just met, but she was the one who brought it up. So I assumed she wanted to talk about it.

She shrugged. "Priorities, I guess."

I nodded knowingly. "You wanted different things," I said more than asked.

"No. It's not that. In fact, we both wanted the same things," she said, sipping her coffee. When I stared at her confused, she continued. "We both love our jobs. Neither of us were willing to give them up for each other." She shook her head at the memory. "When I was on location, he was at home. Then we'd switch roles. While he was out running around the world, I sat at home, waiting for him to return. We were doomed to fail."

I watched her eyes flinch at the reality of it all. "I'm sorry."

She glanced up at me, and smiled sadly. "It's okay. Things don't always work out. If they did, life would be boring."

I smirked and nodded. We sat in silence, sipping on our drinks.

"Either way though, Nathan Drake can kiss my ass," she stated, determination sparkling in her eyes.

I laughed and raised my cup in toast. "Here here!"

She grinned and brought her Styrofoam cup to mine.

o-o-o

_Poor guy_, I mused with a smirk, looking at the infamous Nathan Drake who was now lying on his back. Holding out a hand to help him us, I said, "Sorry."

He glared at it and waved me off. I rolled my eyes and walked back to Elena's side.

"So," Elena began, glaring daggers at Drake, "what's your angle on all this misery? You gonna plunder a few temples? Loot the museum?"

"It's nice to see you too," Drake replied dryly; Elena rolled her eyes and flicked through her notebook. "I suppose you're here for some noble crusade, right?" he continued, picking himself off the floor.

She turned back to him, watching him brush himself off, and replied, "Actually, we're trailing a fugitive war criminal. Zoran Lazarevic. Have you heard of him?"

Drake stared at her for a few seconds before picking up his gun and asking, "Isn't that NATO's job?"

She paused for a moment. "Well, they think that he's dead. Killed in some bombing raid." Scratching her forehead, she walked over to the ledge I was sitting on.

"Oh," Drake mused smugly, cleaning off his pistol, "and you're here to prove otherwise."

"You know what?" she shot back, resting a leg on the ledge. "This guy's a real monster, Nate. We're talking torture, mutilation, mass executions…" He watched her glance around, nervously tapping her notebook against her hand. "See, now he's plotting something new," she continued, frustration coating her voice. "But, why out here? Why tear apart the city? You know? It just doesn't make any sense!"

She looked at him, in search of answers, but he simply shrugged. Suddenly her brow furrowed. "Oh no." Drake glanced around confused. Pointing her pencil accusingly at him, she pleaded, "Tell me you don't have anything to do with this."

He laughed slightly and said, "That's ridiculous."

"There you are, Nate!" a voice suddenly called from around the corner. "I think I lost them—" A tan woman with black hair and blue eyes emerged and immediately pointed a hefty-looking pistol at us.

"Oh woah woah!" Nate exclaimed, placing a hand on the woman's arm. "It's alright, Chloe. They're…" he waved a hand, brushing us off as safe, "…journalists."

Elena stared dubiously at the woman, whose name was apparently Chloe.

"Oh," Chloe said, returning her gun to its holster. "Well, we need to keep moving if we want to stay one step ahead of Lazarevic so—"

"Aw man, Nate!" Elena exclaimed, disappointment dripping from her voice.

"Hey hey, wait a minute," he replied, gesturing towards her. "Now don't jump to conclusions, Elena."

Chloe laughed quietly before saying, "Um, I'm sorry. Am I sensing some history here?"

I snorted. _More than you'll ever know, lady._

Elena's expression went smug as she reached for Chloe's hand. "Oh, Elena Fisher. Last year's model."

Nate laughed sarcastically. "That's cute." She threw an I-win-you-lose face at him and snickered, walking towards me. "Mhm. Yeah," he mumbled, clearly annoyed, but he was soon distracted by Chloe stepping away from him looking slightly miffed.

"Real nice, Elena," I said with a smirk, watching Chloe and Nate animatedly talk things out. "Way to make an amiable impression."

She threw a hand towards the couple. "Are you kidding me? I mean, what the hell! It's only been a few months since we broke up, and he's already got some new bimbo hanging all over him. It's ridiculous!"

"Okay, okay," I relented. "I was just kidding."

Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair. "I know. It's just…unnerving. That's all." I nodded and picked dirt from the crevices of my camera. Andrew was already pissed. The last thing we needed was a trashed camera. "I bet this whole thing is his fault," Elena said suddenly, glaring at Drake's back.

"What is?" I asked.

"Everything with Lazarevic and Nepal and…just everything!" she answered exasperatedly.

I shrugged. "Well, I dunno. I mean, he's just one guy, right?"

She laughed without humor and wiped the sweat from her brow. "It only takes one man, especially if it's Nate."

I grinned. "So he gets into trouble a lot, I'm assuming?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," she answered, shaking her head and smirking.

Out attention was suddenly averted by Chloe exclaiming, "You don't always have to play the bloody hero, you know." Elena and I watched in shock. Apparently, their conversation had taken a sour turn. Nate waved her off and walked towards us. "Nate!" Chloe called, staring at him in disbelief. "Just dance with the one who brought you, alright?"

"Yeah, I get it," he muttered. "They're still coming with us."

Elena rolled her eyes, approached him with me close behind. "Oh we don't need saving, Nate."

"Thank you!" Chloe said, exasperatedly throwing her hands in the air.

He was about to retaliate when the steady roar of a helicopter stopped us in our tracks. Nate turned to us with a smug grin and replied, "You might wanna rethink that."

Elena's eyes widened. "Shit."

"Run," Chloe said easily, turning on her heel and sprinting.

o-o-o

"Look out!" Nate called, bullets wizzing past our heads.

Quickly crouching behind cover, I pulled out my pistol and complained, "Ah, what's next?"

"You're still doing this?" Elena asked dubiously, from behind a column, occasionally whipping out to shoot an enemy. I mostly blind-fired. Excuse me for not wanting to get my head blown off.

"I don't ask for this trouble!" Nate argued, ducking behind some rubble.

I jumped as a bullet barely missed me. "This is horse-shit," I muttered under my breath, reloading my gun. "I'm a cameraman, not a fucking FBI agent."

o-o-o

"Pretty good shot for a journalist," Chloe commented, nodding at Elena once the area was clear.

Elena snorted. "I've had some practice."

"Just keep moving," Nate said, annoyance dripping from his words.

They walked ahead of us, while I lingered back with Elena. "I thought you were exaggerating when you said he gets into a lot of trouble," I whispered.

"Trust me," she said. "I wish I was."

o-o-o

The led us to a large, ornate temple.

I turned on my camera and started filming, simply out of habit. "What is this place?" I asked, leaning towards Elena.

"Dunno. Some sort of Tibetan temple, I guess," she answered, glancing around at our surroundings. She leaned in closer to me. "He's up to something," she whispered, nodding at Drake. I glanced at him and Chloe who were staring at the temple like proud parents; they certainly were a strange and mysterious pair.

"Be sure to get the roof," Elena said, quickly changing the subject. "The architecture's incredible."

"How 'bout that, huh?" Drake said to Chloe, chuckling a bit.

She grinned. "You brought us right to the doorstep."

Elena approached them, ready for a confrontation. "So I'm guessing it's not a coincidence that we ended up here?"

"Ah, no. Not exactly," he answered.

She shook her head. "God you're an ass." Drake simply shrugged. "Okay, just what is it you're after, anyway?"

He glanced at her and pointed to the top of the doors. "See that symbol up there? It's called the Cintamani Stone—"

"Nate?" Chloe interrupted, subtly telling him to shut the hell up.

"It's a massive raw sapphire," he continued, either ignoring or simply not hearing Chloe. "It's worth millions."

"So let me get this straight…" Elena began, staring at him skeptically, "…you're competing with a psychopathic war criminal for a mythological gemstone?"

I chuckled and added, "When you put it that way, it does sound pretty stupid."

Drake looked at me, paused, and said, "Yeah, thanks for the input, Jeff."

I went back to filming.

"And it's supposedly in this temple," Elena finished, crossing her arms.

"Well, no," he began, "the stone itself isn't here."

"Hey, look at that!" Chloe said, pointing towards the sky in a feeble attempt to distract them from each other. As much as Elena said she hated the man, she and Drake were certainly comfortable around each other.

"No?" Elena asked, completely unsurprised.

"No, it's in Shambala," Nate continued.

Elena just looked at him. "Shambala?"

Chloe was now getting rather frustrated. "_Nate."_

"Yeah. Y'know. Shangri La."

Chloe finally walked up to him and gently grabbed his wrists. "Can I have a word with you, darling?" She pulled him away until the familiar beat of wings surrounded us: a helicopter. "On second thought, perhaps we should continue this conversation inside."

"Good idea. C'mon." Drake pushed the doors open.

o-o-o

"All right. We should be safe in here for now," Drake said, glancing at our surroundings.

Elena shook her head, confused, and walked up to him. "This just doesn't add up, Nate. Lazarevic can't be after the money. He doesn't need it." Drake pondered this as she continued, "You're missing something…"

"C'mon. We haven't got all day," Chloe interrupted, dragging Drake away. "You two stay here."

"Promise me you'll stay put," Drake said, looking us both in the eyes. "We'll be right back!"

Then Chloe closed the doors.

Elena shook her head. "Famous last words."

I turned on my camera and pointed it to her, zooming in on her face. "Is that bitterness I sense?"

She glared at me. "No! And get that thing out of my face."

"You have your own TV show. You should be used to this." I grinned at her scowl. "Tell us about this temple, Miss Fisher. Maybe Andrew won't be so pissed about our little escapade if we at least have some decent footage."

She glanced around the room. "It's old."

I rolled my eyes. "Wow. Thanks for that, genius. How 'bout something that's _not_ obvious?"

"Fuck you!" she exclaimed with a grin.

My mouth fell open in false horror. "Children watch this show! What will they say when their hero cusses them out?"

"I'll tell them that it's your fault."

I snorted. "Like Andrew will believe you. You're the feisty one; I just get dragged along for the ride."

She pondered this for a moment. "Technically, I'm your boss. I could have you fired!"

"Psh. Whatever! You don't have the balls."

Her mouth fell open with a short disbelievingly laugh. "I _so_ have the balls."

"You just admitted to the world that you have balls. How do you feel now, Miss Fisher?"

"Jerk." She pushed me away and simultaneously snatched the camera from my hands. "Your turn, buddy. Have anything to say to the audience?"

I crossed my arms and stared at her through the camera lens. "Elena isn't as nice in person, kids."

"Shut up!" she exclaimed, turning the camera in her hands so that it faced her. "I am too! He's just the stupid cameraman. Please ignore him."

I rolled my eyes. "Give that back, wench."

She stared at me as I pulled the camera from her hands. "Did you just call me a wench?"

"Yes ma'am," I replied, filming her dubious face.

Throwing her hands in the air, she exclaimed, "Who the hell says 'wench' anymore?"

"I do! Now please give me your professional impression of the building."

"I already gave you my professional impression. It's old."

"That won't keep our audience from changing the channel. Find something else to talk about." She rolled her eyes and strolled to the doors, pulling them open. It was raining, not torrentially, but enough to be annoying. "Uh…" I began, "what are you doing? Shouldn't we stay inside? Drake said—"

"I don't give a rat's ass what Nate said. You want my professional opinion? Then let's go outside rather than staying in this stuffy room." She walked down the stairs, completely unphased by the low rumble of thunder, and wandered to one of the columns, examining it. "It's sandstone."

Walking towards her, I nodded. "Okay. Anything else?"

She glared at me. "Don't pressure me! Greatness takes—"

She was silenced by German voices echoing from the other side of the door, shouting orders and getting closer. _Crap!_ I thought. _They must have heard us talking…_

"Elena..." I whispered, frozen in place.

"Shh!" she shushed, watching the door carefully. The voices got louder and we each took a terrified step back. Elena pulled out her pistol and looked at me. "Turn that off, and get your gun," she whispered, never taking her eyes off the door.

I nodded and did as she said, securing the camera on my back.

The doors slowly opened.

She grabbed my arm and yanked me down into cover behind a small wall. The rain was falling harder now, plastering our clothes to our skin.

The first soldiers sprinted in, guns at the ready. We huddled behind the wall, gripping our guns.

"Search the area and find Drake," someone commanded. "He's here somewhere." Most of them sprinted towards the temple. A few stayed.

Gravel crunched under heavy boots as someone approached our hiding place. Elena clutched her gun tighter and our breathing quickened. "Ready?" she asked, between her teeth. "We'll hold them off until Nate and Chloe get here, okay?" I nodded. She saw the fear in my eyes and quickly squeezed my hand. "He said he'd be right back."

"Hey!" a soldier exclaimed. Elena whipped around and shot him four times in the chest.

"Here we go," she said, turning to shoot his comrade that was lingering near him. "Come on, Jeff!"

I shook out of my daze, and immediately shot a soldier running towards us. They called for back-up, but apparently the others were busy with Nate and Chloe in the temple. _Maybe we can do this,_ I hoped, shooting another man.

o-o-o

We were doing pretty well, considering the circumstances. I ducked behind the wall to reload. _Damn it!_ I thought, struggling with the pistol. _Old piece of shit…_

That's when I saw something move in my peripheral vision. Glancing up, I heard a gunshot and my vision fogged.

"Jeff!" Elena screamed, pivoting and shooting the soldier. "Oh my god. Oh my _god_."

I glanced down to see a quarter-sized hole in my right side, pumping out a steady stream of blood. I stared at it for a few seconds, confused, before I finally felt a crippling shock of pain. Immediately clutching the wound, I groaned.

Elena's hands hovered over me, not sure what to do. Suddenly she glanced up. "Drake's here. Oh thank god."

"I d-don't suppose he has any b-bandages, huh?" I asked with a slight grin.

She looked at me and grabbed my face. "You're going to be okay. Do you understand me?"

She was on the verge of tears; after spending so much time with her, I could tell. Her expression now was the same she'd worn during our 'Tsunami Survivors' episode. Even more recently, it was the same expression she wore when we watched 'Marley and Me' together. Elena always was a softy.

"Whatever you say," I sputtered through gaspy breaths. It hurt to breath now.

She applied pressure to my wound, forcing a loud groan from me, and occasionally springing up to shoot a soldier who was too close. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, her hands wet and shaking.

I shook my head. "S-stupid." She looked up at me. "It's n-not your fault."

Her brow furrowed as she tried to hold herself together.

o-o-o

The gunshots eventually quieted and heavy footsteps approached us. Drake swung around the corner and said, "We better keep moving."

"He's hit," Elena said, tears forming at her eyes.

"I-I'm okay," I stuttered.

He bent down and touched my hand. "Lemme see." Gently pushing my hand away, he hissed quietly when he saw my injury.

"Oh god," Elena groaned, dropping her head.

Drake nodded. "All right, you're going to be fine," he assured me. "Think you can stand?"

"I think so…" I answered weakly.

He nodded and threw my arm around his shoulders. "All right, c'mon. I'll help you."

"Wait," Elena said feebly, reaching for the camera. I had forgotten about it.

"No, no, no. Leave that. It's busted anyway."

I glanced at Elena apologetically. I was asked to do one thing, and I couldn't even do that right.

"Here we go. Up." Drake heaved me up, my side pulsing with pain; I groaned loudly, clutching my side.

"Nate..." Chloe said in disbelief.

"He's fine," he said, shooting her a look. "Aren't you, chief?" I nodded feebly. "All right, get that door open."

"He's never gonna make it," Chloe insisted. "We have to leave him."

"What? No!" Elena exclaimed.

"Get the door open, Chloe!" Nate commanded.

"You're gonna get us all killed!" she shouted, kicking the door open.

I groaned loudly, my vision blurring slightly.

"All right, buddy," Nate said, adjusting me slightly. "Let's go."

o-o-o

We struggled down rubble-plagued streets, clumsily dodging bullets. There were many times I just wanted to sit down and stop. But every time the pain started sending me into unconsciousness, Nate would lift me up and encourage me to keep going. "I wanna go home," I stuttered, barely audible. By now, I was barely holding onto my wound. It's not like I could feel my hand anyway.

Nate glanced at me, eyes wide, before pulling me tighter onto his shoulder. "You'll get there," he whispered through his teeth. "We just gotta kill these guys first."

I shook my head; I could barely hold it up now. I just wanted to sleep. "I wanna stop."

"No you don't."

Through my hazy eyes, I stared at him, his face puckered from stress. "She loves you," I whispered. He glanced at me in surprise before shooting another soldier. "Be nice to her."

Nate shook his head. "C'mon. You can tell me all of her secrets later when we're tanning on the beach or drinking a beer. We have time."

I couldn't feel any more pain; I rolled my eyes. "You're so s-stupid."

"No, you're stupid!" he spat. "Just keep going."

"Will you just promise me that you'll t-take care of her, please?" I slurred, struggling to keep my eyes open. Another bullet barely nicked my arm. "Even if I do live through this—"

"Which you will."

"—can you promise me?"

He looked at me before hiking me up higher. "Yeah," he shot another bullet, "I'll take care of her."

I smirked and nodded my head. "Thanks." We were walking up some stairs now. "Sorry I judged you so quickly. She kind of made you out to be an ass."

He smirked as we reached the top of the stairs. "She would." We entered the room, I immediately tried to sit down.

"Oh, shit!" Elena spat, staring at the edge of the building.

"That's all right. We can make that," Chloe assured her easily.

Elena stared at her dubiously. "He can't."

I let all my strength leave my body; I just wanted to sit. "Oh no, you don't," Nate said, struggling against my dead weight.

"We don't have a choice," Chloe replied, walking over to Nate and me.

"I can't," I moaned.

"C'mon, Jeff," Nate encouraged, slowly letting me down. He couldn't carry me forever. I knew this. When I finally reached the ground, all my energy rushed out of me, my hands and legs sprawled out at my sides. Nate immediately applied pressure to my wound.

"Nate," Chloe began, rocking back on her heels, "you tried, but it's over. He can't go any further."

"We can't just leave him here to die!" Nate argued, still crouched by my side.

Chloe spun around. "He is as good as dead already, and so are we if we don't go _now_!"

"Then go," Nate shot back, briefly glancing at her before applying pressure once again.

"Yeah," Elena spat, walking to my side, "nobody's stopping you!"

I looked at my fair-haired companion and attempted a smile, but I was too tired. German voices echoed up the stairs. Everything was blurry and slow like I was underwater. "Jeff…" she whispered, only her voice cutting crystal clear through them all. And thank god it did. I wanted her to keep talking; I wanted to get lost in her voice, her very being. I loved her so much it hurt. Nate was a lucky guy.

A British man spoke briefly. Then I heard heavy boots approach me. I glanced up to see Lazarevic standing before me. I vaguely wished that I had my camera. Andrew was going to be pissed.

"Did you carry him all the way from the temple?" Lazarevic asked, pulling out a gun. I stared at him, dazed but understanding.

So this was it.

"Shame."

The last thing I heard was a gunshot, and Elena scream, "No!"

My body fell cold.

At least Elena's voice was the last thing I heard.

I was blessed in that one small way.

**THE END**

_Awwww...poor Jeff. *cries* I thought it was so sad how he didn't play a big part in the game. Elena just moved on! *sigh* Even though I do love Elena and Nate, I feel like Jeff should've had a bigger role. I didn't say much about Chloe in this fic, but I don't think she's evil or uncaring. Just practical and realistic. Well, I hope you enjoyed it and please review! I love me some constructive criticism! NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM!!_

_Lexicer._


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